The Only Bunk Left
by Anybodys
Summary: Leia is a little fit when learning that there is only one bunk left and Han is also on the ship.  Set somewhere between ANH and ESB.


Usually, the _Millennium Falcon _had enough bunks for Chewie, Han, Leia, and Luke, but ever since the last mission (the one with the vicious little creatures that liked to eat everything in sight, resulting in the battle of Captain Solo and the Creatures of Many Names), only one bunk was left surviving.

Han had forgot about the missing bunks along with the fact that he had to get three new mattresses much because of the fact that the Rebels had provided him a room and he had a sudden lack of missions since then. Until the day Leia and him and to fly out to some planet to talk to another alien species ("Why bother? They're all a bunch of—" Han would start) to join the Rebellion.

One late night after a stressful day of flying, they decided to go to bed, Leia ducking out of Han's way as he cursed at the galaxy, the mission, and his ship's occasional malfunctions. On any other day a huge fight would've broken out between the two of them, but she had a feeling when Han was mad at his ship he was ignorant of Leia. When he did notice her, he was always dripping with sarcasm and Leia knew better than try to provoke a fight with him with that sort of attitude. As she left the 'fresher, Han was leaning against the doorway with his eyes closed. She stared at him strangely, and slowly his eyes came open. "Took you long enough," he mumbled before going in there.

Rolling her eyes, she headed towards the bunks.

Meanwhile, in the 'fresher, Han heard her scream. Swearing underneath his breath, he quickly grabbed a towel and hopped out the door and ran to her. There she was, staring at the bunks with a shocked expression.

"Oh no. No, no, no."

Han gave her a lopsided grin. "Sorry, Princess."

She glanced towards him. "There is no way I'm sleeping with _you_." _You _came out as if it were something disgusting.

He put a hand on his chest in mock hurt. "Why, your Highness, it's a pleasure to sleep with the one-and-only Han Solo. Now if you would excuse me, I think I have some more important matters to attend to." Moving his hand off his chest, he waved over his body, his lower half only being covered by a towel.

Just as he was about to leave, he noticed her eyes staring at his abdomen for a long period. Smirking mischievously, he said, "What, do you like what you see?"

Her eyes jolted upwards as if he caught her doing something impure, but her composure stayed the same diplomatic way. "Are you daring to suggest that I am—how would you say it—"

"Checking me out?" he teased. Her nostrils flared. _Damn, she's sexy when she does that._

"Yes that," she said rather reluctantly.

"I can't blame you."

"I ought to smack you."

"Go ahead." He taunted her with the smile that he usually used to egg a girl on (often sexually).

Still glaring at him, she turned on her heels and sat down defiantly on the bed, still staring at the wall opposite of him. Chuckling, he went back to the 'fresher to finish what had been interrupted.

By then, the water was cold, and he grimaced as the pellets pierced his skin, but it was time to make his move on her, to test her out to see if she was worthy of Han Solo.

"Hey, your Worship, care to hand me my shirt?"

She still sat in the same position he had left her. Sighing, he continued, "You know, you can't stay like that forever. I can come and do anything I want in front of you—things that would make your pretty little princess head spin—and you would have to move, unless, of course, you liked it."

With those last words, she spun around at him, smoke practically coming out of her ears. "I didn't choose to be with you, you know. But you were the only pilot left, the only one who could take me to some stupid planet the Rebels so desperately need, but once again you decide to sabotage the whole mission by trying to get me to—to sleep with you or something!"

"Hey, hey, hey! I'm not doing anything."

"Oh, it's all fun and games to you, Captain Solo, but one day you're going to regret it."

"Back to formalities now, are we? What a shame."

She quickly stood up and marched over with a hand in the air, but Han quickly grabbed it and her waist and twisted her around so that her back was against the wall beside the doorway.

"Come on, you like it," he whispered through clenched teeth.

Her anger turned into fear. "Like what?"

"Don't play stupid with me." He stared at her for a couple of seconds before letting her go.

In what seemed like a daze, she said, "What—what was it you wanted?"

"My night shirt. Have you seen it?"

She moved around him and looked on the floor by the bunk. "What does it look li—"

"Oh, here it is out in the hallway. Must've dropped it." Smiling widely like a young boy who had manipulated somebody (_Gods forbid she admits it_, he thought) he left to go pick up his shirt and enjoyed the look of fury, confusion, and just pure awe on her face as she stared at his stomach again.

"Okay, Captain Solo, now that you played your little game, where shall we sleep?"

He looked over at her as he put the razor down. "First of all, stop being angry and call me Han. Secondly, we sleep in the bunk."

Clearly, his response didn't cut it. "Captain Solo—"_ Damn her stubbornness_ "—I cannot sleep with you in the same bunk because you know how much the Rebels like rumors and—"

"You don't trust me."

She put on a shocked expression, but relief filled her eyes. "No, it's not that—"

"Oh, cut it out, Princess. I know you don't trust me." He started towards the bunk, Leia following on his heels.

Deciding that it was time to give in, she started, "Well, with a man of you stature, you can understand."

He turned around to face her. "I do understand, but can't you look past the fact that I'm a smuggler and trust _me_?"

Suddenly, she got quiet. His expression softened. "I'm not going to touch you or force you into doing anything you don't want too. I don't even know where in the galaxy you think I would ever do that to you." _I can't corrupt something that beautiful_, he wanted to say, but he couldn't manage to get the words out.

"I—I know." The uncertainty she had in her voice from earlier was back, as if she weren't sure if this was a trap or not. "I just have to take caution."

"Sweetheart, if I'm on a 'diplomatic trip' with you, I have to act 'diplomatic' with you too, right?"

Speechless again, she just stared at him with her mouth agape. With his infamous Han Solo smirk, he kissed her forehead and started heading towards the bunks again when he heard, "Han!"

Turning around, he saw her hurrying towards him, and her lips were thrust against his, her arms thrown around his neck. He wrapped his own arms around her waist and lifted her up, carrying her all the way to the bunk where he sat down and absorbed the kiss. It was soft, but at the same time full of sometime of fierce passion that was locked within, wanting to burst out and show him what she really wanted but was too afraid to show.

And for that moment, he wished that it would last forever—just that one moment, where he finally got her to succumb to him.

She finally broke away, staring at him with subtle horror displayed on her face. "I don't know what happened," she started, but never finished because tears started streaming down her face.

"Shh, sweetheart," he soothed, letting her head rest on his chest. "I'm not mad at you."

"I'm mad at myself."

"Why?"

"Well—" She stopped to wipe some tears away as she sat up to face him. "I told myself after—after Alderaan was gone that I would devote the rest of my life to making others happy. I wouldn't care about myself because honestly the only thing I have to live for is the Rebellion. And then—and then I just broke down tonight, I had to kiss you…." She tried to blink back the rest of her tears but failed.

His thumb came up to her cheek and wiped them away. "It's okay. Nobody's going to hate you for it. Nobody's going to even know about. What's wrong with giving yourself a little happiness every once in a while?" He gave her a weak grin.

Returning a genuine smile back, she said rather hoarsely, "Thanks, Han" before resting on his chest again.

Although she rather not admit it, she loved their fights. She loved the way his hands felt on her cheeks when she would cry, she loved the way he held her close and listened when she hurt. She loved… Han, but only his sensitivity to her when she needed it, she would tell herself. Not Han in general.

But even through all the self-denial, she fell asleep wrapped in his arms and stayed safe from her normal nightmares of Alderaan being destroyed with Han protecting her.

All because of one bunk.


End file.
